


Hot 'n' Cold

by cecilantro



Series: 100 Days Of Ficlets [3]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 19:23:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13841367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cecilantro/pseuds/cecilantro
Summary: Your average tiefling is warm.Molly isn't.Caleb is.It gets pretty cold at night.





	Hot 'n' Cold

**Author's Note:**

> this is my third lil fic in three days thats one a day!!!! GODS i love me.  
> anyway this is enough to rot the skull out of your head and i should be asleep peace out

Mollymauk’s hands were always cold.  
He complained about it, from time to time. A passing comment, a jest about being cool, and the conversation moved on. Still, Caleb remembered it, tucked it away in his mind like something precious.  
  
Caleb’s hands were, for the most part, warm.  
When he cast his spells, especially his fire spells, the warmth would drain out of him with the arcane power. But once he’s recharged, his fingers would warm again, and he’d find his short-bitten nails digging into the palms of his hands. Frustration, and he didn’t know why, but he knew that his eyes trailed the jingling of Molly’s baubles and gems.  
When Nott caught him doing it, he told her old habits die hard, things that jingle and glitter and shine are worth money. It’s taking him time to adjust to the fact that these are friends, not victims.

 

They were sitting in a field on the trip from Alfield to Zedash, kitted out and traumatised and well-fed, all at the same time. It had been a while since Caleb had been so _normal_ , and yet so far from. Nott dozed against his thigh, curled like a cat. And speaking of, his mind trailed along the thought, he should really look into getting the charcoal for the Find Familiar spell.  He was used to having  _some_ animal around, even if Frumpkin had been a small bird for the past few days. He thought about it with a pang of sad affection. He missed _his_ cat.   
“Ah, my hands are cold.”  
Caleb’s eyes zipped to Mollymauk, his head turning so fast, he heard a crack in his neck from the strain on his bones. Molly reclined in the grass, an easy smile on his face, his ridiculous coat slipping off of his shoulder where he pressed one hand into the grass behind him, supporting himself. The other hand, he was flexing in front of him, watching his own fingers move with an odd fascination.  
Caleb spoke before he thought.  
“Come here.”  
And to his surprise, Molly obeyed, shifting toward him with no more than a raised eyebrow. Caleb twisted, careful not to shake Nott, and pressed Molly’s hand between both of his own.  
“Oh.” Molly said, surprised, “You’re very warm.” and he righted himself a little more to place his other hand over Caleb’s.”Very warm.” he repeated, and stared, enthralled, at the stripes of lavender and human skin.  
From the other side of the circle, Jester studied the flush that crept from the tips of Caleb’s ears, down and across his face. Visible, even under the dirt.  
  
Molly’s dreams that night were full of _Caleb_. Electric blue eyes, meeting his. The quirk of a smile. The sensation of Caleb’s red hair, dirty as it was, as Molly threaded his fingers through it.

Bad dreams, too. The memory of the Manticore fight, how _empty_ Caleb had been that night. He re-lived it all, and hated himself over again for being too busy to do more than kiss Caleb’s forehead and give him the promise of _later_ .  
But there was more. The unreal. The feel of a warm hand at his waist and creeping to his back. Pulling. Cupping at his jaw, and the dream was so vivid he could swear he felt the pressure and heat of the kiss-  
And then he woke up, a breath of cold air into tightened lungs, he was curled almost in the corner of the cart. On his side, so that all he could see was the detail of the wood. Each chip, the grain, the knots, and he could lie and say that the wood is what he noticed first when he rose from his dreams. But it wasn’t.  
What he noticed, was the warm weight across his waist, and the warmth behind him. And he knew, expertly, which of his friends had that exact weight and warmth of that arm.  
Caleb was pressed to his back, breathing deep and even, an arm around Molly.  
He was so warm. Even without his coat- which he had laid over Nott to keep _her_ warm- Caleb radiated heat like a low campfire. Molly turned, slowly, carefully, until he could face the wizard, and managed it with only one low hum of disdain.  
Caleb looked so perfect under the moonlight.  
The purple-white, pale light cast heavy shadows, smoothed every scar. He appeared as though carved from marble, a stone god before him. His hair, a single, gentle wave, all colour seeped away by the night. Molly swore his heart genuinely stopped. Caleb’s arm around him tightened, so slightly, pulling him toward him just a little, and Molly obliged willingly, snaking one of his own arms out from underneath his coat to loop around Caleb. He closed his eyes, and fell away again, the lingering burning heat of Caleb’s touch emblazoned on his brain.

 

Caleb woke in the light of morning, coming to before he opened his eyes. Jester’s voice was a hum behind him, it sounded like she was talking to Beau, and Caleb was entwined with someone.  
At first he thought it might be Nott. It was uncommon, but not unheard of, to find the goblin a little clingy soon after a death scare. But as he came to himself more, he realised that there was a leg tucked between both of his, an arm around his waist, the sound of breathing. Nott was too small for that, and not nearly affectionate enough. That left only one option, really, since Fjord was too big. And Beau was with Jester.  
He blinked his eyes open to the top of Molly’s head, and took a sharp breath in shock.  
They weren’t _completely_ entwined, Mollymauk was only just close enough at shoulder level to rest his hand gently on Caleb’s back, over his side. And oh, Caleb found his own arm slung over Molly’s waist. When had he done that?  
(First, evidently, since Molly’s arm was over the top of his own.)  
Molly hummed and shifted a little, and Caleb felt his heart in his throat as the tiefling yawned widely, giving Caleb a glance of sharp canine teeth for a moment before he closed his mouth and opened his eyes. Caleb saw his own shock reflected, like a mirror.  
A few beats of silence before Molly’s expression relaxed into the confidence he usually wore like a badge of honour, a smile,  
“Well, this is a nice good morning.” Molly said, and squeezed him.  
“Mmm, yes.” Caleb agreed, sleepily, too content to argue, and too sleep-addled to worry. The worry would come later. Molly shuffled himself a little closer, shifted his arm so he could stroke Caleb’s hair from his face.  
“I woke up whilst it was still dark,” Molly explained, voice quiet, a hint of question to his tone, “And you had your arm over me.”  
“Your hands are always so cold, I thought you could do with the extra warmth.” Caleb quirked an eyebrow, “My apologies if I skimmed a boundary.” and he made to pull his arm away.  
“No!” Molly startled, clapping his hand to Caleb’s arm before he could move far. The wizard’s hand bumped down onto Molly’s waistt, and beside the cart, Jester and Beau looked over in concern.  
“Everythin’ okay over there?” Beau called over.  
“Don’t worry!” Caleb called back, and Molly swore he saw a spark of _mischief_ in his eyes. Caleb’s hand trailed along his side and chest, his touch light and playful, and Molly couldn’t quite suppress the shudder he responded with. Caleb exhaled a little harder than usual, a quiet, quick laugh, and ran his fingers through the fabric of the loose, open collar of Molly’s shirt. Beside Molly’s neck.  
Molly’s breath was shallow, fast, his pulse so quick it was dizzying.  
On the other hand, Caleb looked positively serene, the most calm and confident Molly had seen him since the Manticore, if not ever.  
Caleb’s hand smoothed up to his neck. He pulled a little, then paused,  
“Is this okay?” he asked, and Molly’s already wide eyes widened more, a crimson ocean, and Caleb was so caught up that he almost missed Molly’s reply.  
“Are you asking if you can kiss me?” He sounded almost incredulous, and Caleb gave the same, brief laugh he had moments ago.  
“I suppose I am.” and at once, with no more encouragement needed, Molly was pressed to him and it was as he had dreamed. The warmth. The pressure. The hand at the back of his neck, thumb brushing rhythmically just behind his ear.  
They broke to draw breath, and it was sweet, morning light and there was Caleb. Blue eyes, half-lidded by sleep, and affection, and Molly with his shock and happiness written into each angle on his face.  
“Morning, sleepyheads!” Jester trilled, and the two started so hard that Molly smacked head off of the side of the cart in his rush to sit up. He saw stars instead of a smug blue tiefling when he made it upright, and Caleb fussed over him, an arm around his shoulders, a hand smoothing his hair. Jester crossed her arms and leaned back on her knees, a self-satisfied smirk on her face.  
“Was that really necessary?” Caleb let his irritation thicken his accent for the words, and he half-glared at Jester as Molly’s fingers met his own on the tiefling’s head.  
“I’d say so.” Jester switched her smirk for a grin, and Nott and Fjord began to stir, “It woke up our other beauties. Good morning!” She chirped to Fjord as he sat up.  
“That was a hell of a bang.” He replied, looking to Molly, being fussed over. “Didn’t happen t’ be your head gettin’ aquainted with the cart, did it, Molly?”  
“As it happens, yes, we’re quite close now.” Molly managed the jest, raising his eyebrows at Fjord.  
“Seems that ain’t the only thing y’ got close to overnight.” Fjord gestured to Caleb, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Molly followed the gesture, looked to Caleb, and his own confident expression melted into affection. He kissed the bridge of Caleb’s nose, and Jester whooped, shocking all of them once more.  
“Beau, you owe me five gold!” She grinned, hanging over the side of the cart. Beau stuck out her tongue,  
“Aw, shit.”


End file.
